


The Mind Electric

by CowboyEnthusiast



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Electroconvulsive Therapy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-09-26 23:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20397640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowboyEnthusiast/pseuds/CowboyEnthusiast
Summary: Hell believes Crowley has forgotten just what a demon is and what a demon should do, and needs to be reminded and punished for such errors.Title and influence from the song 'The Mind Electric' by Miracle Musical!





	1. Chapter 1

Hell had not been particularly happy with Crowley for a very long time. But that shouldn't surprise anyone. Firstly, because it is Hell, and no one likes anyone in Hell. Secondly, while Crowley said he did a good job, that didn't make him any more likable in the eyes of Hell's leaders. They distrusted him. But again, that should surprise no one, it's Hell. But they didn't trust him on a different level than all the others. Hell didn't like or trust Crowley because one key factor- he was on Earth.

He worked there, stayed there, but most importantly- he lived there. He lived on Earth. He didn't have to walk the crowded Halls of hell or rot from the inside everyday. He got to prance around and cause temptation for all of humanity. And worst of all- it seemed that he had started to like the humans. Adopted their ways, stayed in fashion and up to date. Changing and adding new ideas for temptations. And worst of all, he seemed like he was going to go native. And Hell could not allow a demon do that.

1951  
Crowley and Aziraphale were still not talking. Well not as much as earlier years. There was that whole bit in the church with the books, but after that things just fizzled. Crowley still wanted holy water, and Aziraphale still feared the consequences of handing such personal destruction to the demon. So, to say not much communication had been done between the two would be correct. But when had they ever clearly communicated, really.

But still, both were nothing but stubborn. This isn't to say that both didn't deeply miss the other, whether that was a conscious though or not is a whole other story, but still- they both held their beliefs strongly, so that was that.

Crowley was having an off day to say the least. Now while the Arrangement seemed to be on hold, that didn't really stop him from perhaps helping here and there. He sure did more demonic deeds than heavenly, that's for sure, but he really couldn't help that he hated seeing helpless children on the street, or a family just wanting a break or nice day. They were pathetic, that was all. Nothing more. Not that he hated seeing humans so miserable, and certainly not the fact that it might remind him of someone. Not at all.

But that wasn't the only reason this day felt weird. No, there seemed to be another presence following him wherever he went. And while he had thought at first it might of been a certain angelic someone, that he totally didn't want to see, not at all, he soon realized it brought a much more demonic feel with it. And it wasn't until too late that realized just what it was, and what it meant for him.

Walking home, his thoughts had begun to slip towards a specific angel, and he knew he should have been more focused on perhaps the more immediate threat of the presence slowly creeping closer, but he never had good foresight. Instead Crowley thought about Aziraphale, and their argument. Even after saving him and his books, things still felt off and awkward between them. Both side not letting up, and Crowley just wished that Aziraphale would understand. Understand that he wasn't trying to destroy him, just trying to protect them. That's all he wanted. He wanted to spend his days with Aziraphale without the threat of demons around every corner.

Couldn't Aziraphale see that?

Crowley was so wrapped up in his own head that he didn't even notice when the presence was so close to his back and began to form itself into a more physical sense. He should have noticed when that presence seemed to begin to be filled with a dark power, surely for telling danger to come, but no. Crowley was to focused on why Aziraphale just didn't seem to understand.

So when he felt what seemed to be a baseball bat hit his head, smashing his face into the sidewalk, dislodging his glasses, forcing him to see stars, the edges of his vision blurring, the last thought that raced through his head before he lost consciousness was that he should have been paying attention.

-

Crowley woke with a pounding headache. Much like when he forgets to sober up before passing up and waking up hungover, bit the pain in his head was from no night of drinking.

As his eyes slowly focused on his surroundings, he snapped up and his pain in the back of his head seemed like the least of his concerns, for you see, he was in Hell.

Crowley was tied to a chair, positioned in front of Lord Beelzebub's throne. He could just make out a metal table stationed behind him, as a low buzzing sound droned on in the background.

Hastur and Ligur were standing off on each side of the throne. Their voices, at first a distant rumble, now coming into focus. They seemed to be finishing talking about something, and Crowley only got to catch the end of it.

"-in conclusion, he has been helping humans stray from the satanic master, he's slipped down the path of temptation and towards the side of these humans!" Hastur concluded, seeming triumphant with his report. At hearing his Crowley's heart began to race.

Beelzebub hummed with acknowledgement. Considering and thinking upon these recent events.

"Demon Crowley." Beelzebub said, addressing him, "You are charged with going native and losing your demonic ways. What do you say to this."

"I- me?" Crowley stammered, "No I don't think so. Just as evil as ever-"

"Do not try and lie to me. You forget, we are demons? Lying is second nature. You've truly lost your way if you have thought we'd be fooled by such."

"I- I can assure you I'm- I'm not 'losing my way' or whatever. Just- adapting!"

"Is that so? Then can you explain away the reports made against you? Why were you helping the humans? Leading them 'not into temptation'. Explain yourself."

"Ah.. Ngk, it was- it was just helping them live another day- another day and more temptation in their future!" Crowley stuttered, Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, "you know, die the hero or live to see yourself become the villain? This stuff takes time in the modern era!"

"Crowley you're fooling no one. Now I've decided to be generous. Believe it or not you're a valuable asset to Hell. You know Earth and the humans very well. It's just a shame you know them too well. So I'm going to offer you rehabilitation. It will put you back on track, make you be who you really are- a demon, a fallen angel, the bringer of the original temptation. And while this straightening out might either do as wanted, or simply fry you're brains until there is nothing left in there, I'm willing to take that chance. Now, If you refuse- well you really don't have a choice." As Beelzebub finished Crowley felt himself grow from being nervous to quiet panicking.

He'd heard of Hell's 'rehabilitation programs' and they've never been good. Of course they weren't good, it was Hell afterall. They were torture, in quite the literal sense.

"Is there anything I can really say?" Crowley said, shocked, the dread taking hold.

"No. No there is not." Beelzebub turned to Hastur and Ligur and nodded.

Both demons' smiles widened sickenly as they moved forward to Crowley. Hastur grabbed his arms as Ligur moved to grab the metal table behind him. Crowley was shoved on to it, the cold surface harsh as he was manhandled so quickly he barely had time to really process what had happened. He was laying on his back, being held down by Hastur as Ligur tightened leather straps over is arms and legs, across is torso and thighs, completely cutting off any movements greater than small spasms and forcing him to only look upwards.

Crowley looked into the eyes of the two dukes, both grinning wickedly as they carted him off into another room he could not see. His heart sank further and further down, fear gripped his insides, making him squirm. The sound of something buzzing got louder and louder as the atmosphere changed to a static sensation in the air.

The table stopped in a quick motion, jassaling Crowley and banging his head on what had ceased the tables progression. He looked up at machine, cables and wires hissing with electricity, leading to two prongs stationed at either side of his head. A dial was shown, marking it to be at its lowest setting, though a couple of switches could surely change that.

Crowley's stomach dropped as Hastur appeared again in his field of vision, looking down at his in amusement. "Electroshock therapy. Now that's one thing the humans made that could come in handy, right Crowley?" Crowley didn't respond, to paralyzed in fear of what is to come.

Hastur removed the prongs from their resting place, and looking Crowley in the eyes, joy creeping into his voice, said, "Now Crowley, let's have some fun!" As he plunged the charged instruments into his temples.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, it gets worse before it gets better...

Crowley really did love humanity. It was ingrained into his core being. He loved them so much that he gave them something he believed to be one of the few good things- that was to be able to question, to make their own decisions between what is good and what is bad. If giving the gift of questions and therefore knowledge to the human race was considered a poor route to take, then well Crowley felt those were poor directions anyway.

So when one tries to rip away such an integral part of someone’s being, that tends to go rather badly for said someone. In a physical sense, it’s worse than reaching one’s hand in and slowly ripping out their own heart.

‘Ripping out your own heart seems like the better option than this’, was one of Crowley’s rare coherent thoughts in between the mental screams of agony.

Electricity rippled through him, burning a path from his brain, taking a stop at his chest, and continuing onwards. Jagged bolts coursed inside of being, trying to turn his organ to mush and pushing them to their limits. Crowley’s back arched off the table as his spine was run through and stringed with thousands of stinging waves of energy. His body stiff and rigid has it locks itself into place from the current rushing throughout. His muscles seized and tightened to impossible levels, feeling like they were on the verge of severing and breaking. 

All at once the rods left his temples and he fell back onto the metal surface limp, and unclenched his jaw that he hadn’t even realized had been biting through his lip. Blood mingled with spit as Crowley tried to take a deep breath, leaving him panting and out of breath. He didn’t get long of a break, but that he was given one was somehow worse than if he hadn’t.

The prongs were shoved into his temples, cracking gentle bone and piercing his skull, and for the first time he screamed as sparks flooded the inside of his mind.

He couldn’t focus on anything except for the blaze of his fried brain as he let out sounds of agony, shredding his throat with each pained yell. Raw with screams, splitting with blood that trickled out of his open mouth, eventually gave way to silent screams as his own voice leaves him. But he couldn’t even fathom why he could no longer make noises more than wet gargling as his mind was hyper focused on the pain of having itself trying to be forcibly scorched out of existence. 

Cracks began to form in his mind has his muscles broke like rubber bands stretched too far, burning flares of torment rose from them as they remained used even when snapped. Blood pooled underneath the surface of his skin, leaving purple trails and weighing heavy on the overtaxed threads.

Crowley didn’t even notice at first that the current had stopped, too focused on the pain that seems to never leave. Only realizing until the table was ramped up, taking on a vertical position, leaving him breathlessly panting and groaning as it pulled on strained muscles and shook his insides. Blood leaked and fell from him onto the floor, the persistent shock still lingered within him even though no current was racing through him, he still felt it. Leaving him shaking and spasming.

It didn't register that someone else had entered the room until a hand lifted his head from where it hung, sending more jolts of pain through his abused body, causing him to gasp. Unfocused eyes were forced to be trained on the blurry figure of Beelzebub.

“So serpent how does it feel so far? You must realize this is nothing so far? Those who reside in Hall have endured much more. You must of counted yourself lucky for escaping from such for so long.” Beelzebub said, Crowley felt his stomach drop as dread mixed with the painful aftershocks. “You see Crawly, others who stay in Hell and have faced regular torture have all been true demons, inside and out. I don’t worry if they are doing their jobs or have fallen for humanity. So you see why we must do this, so you can learn, no more special treatment. You've been out of line for too long, you have to go through this you understand? If not- well we’ve seen what happens then.” Crowley whimpered, it hurt to focus on their words, and even more to picture what they meant.

“So to make up for lost time, we’ll have to just go that much harder on you.” Beelzebub finished, dropping Crowley’s head back down.

Fear rocked through him, he couldn’t handle anymore, he was conditioned for this. He’d been on earth for so long, this would be the end for him, it would break him in ways he could ever fix.

“P-ple-please,” Crowley stammered out, his voice raw and hoarse, broken and quiet, “ple-please” Beelzebub turned around and looked down upon Crowley.

“Are you begging?” They said, curious.

“Ple-please Be-Be- Beelzzz-ebub” Beelzebub remained quiet, a small smile tugging on their lips. “Ple-please, I-I can-t, I can’t.” A sob choked it’s way through his broken lips, tears welled in his eyes.

“Aw, would you look at that?” Beelzebub teased, “What can’t take it? Gone soft up there haven’t you?”

“Please!” Crowley choked out, “Please ha-ve sym-pathy fo-or me!” Upon those words leaving bloodied lips, Crowley know it was the wrong thing to say. He know deep down, that only had things worse, there was no sympathy down here. And what was worse, that gained him one of the worst noises to enter his ears. Beelzebub laughing. Laughing at how easy it was for them to make him break and resort to begging. It truly was humorous to them, one of the funniest things, that a being of Hell could so easily be reduced to such a pathetic demon.

“I don’t think so.” Beelzebub said after finally catching their breath. Then they turned to leave as the table under Crowley was pushed back into its horizontal position. 

And when the metal rods smashed into his skull again, nothing stopped him from openly weeping. Then when the bolts of lightning struck his mangled body, nothing stopped him from opening his mouth into a silent scream as blood was ripped from his throat, as his sobbing could not even be heard over the roar of the electricity.

His thoughts began to spiral downward, losing control and concrete meaning other than suffering and pain.

Tears streaming down his face, he prayed. Prayed for help, prayed to the only person he could think of that was capable of such, he prayed to Aziraphale to help him. And that was the breaking point. The blessed prayer for a savior burned through a demon's plea, seared the demon's weakened mind with such ferocity and burrowed into the crevices barely touched, and he could take no more. No more bolts, no more burns, no more pain.

His last effort was the one to truly end him, for it was the electric singe of a prayer that broke the demon’s mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm working on the next one, but it might be a bit, but I was so excited I could wait to post this! But yeah, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
